


you are unfortunately, both my strength and weakness

by grootmorning



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, Minor Violence, One Shot, Post Season 2, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Waterboarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 01:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grootmorning/pseuds/grootmorning
Summary: "Everyone knows you got a soft spot for the blonde reporter. But no one had the balls to actually use her against you."





	

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: karen and frank are caught by some gangster or something and the bad guy is smart and is hurting karen to get info outta frank (info frank actually doesn't have)  
> http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/post/158838946056/heres-a-kastle-prompt-karen-and-frank-are-caught

The sounds of a struggle roused Karen a little from her stupor and she stirred groggily. Her hands were tied tightly in front of her, she found as she tried to raise a hand to her aching head. So were her feet, and she was lying on a cold cement floor. She couldn't remember how she got here.

Her first thought was,  _Where are my shoes?_ And her second was,  _What a strange thing to be concerned about._

She tried to lift her head as someone else was dragged into the room.  _Stop yelling_ , she wanted to tell them but her head was splitting and she had to blink hard to even focus.

"Page? Page! What did you guys do to her? Page!" A distant voice was roaring.

Karen blinked harder and slowly, as a dim room came into focus. Frank was being forced into a chair and strapped down by two other men. Snarling and swearing up a storm, he fought to get to her. A foot nestled in the small of her back and shoved. She gasped weakly as she was kicked closer to where Frank was sitting.

"Frank," she mumbled. "What's going on?"

"I told you I don't know anything about the Blacksmith's drugs," Frank spit at his captors, who had stood back now that he was tied down, arms behind his back and legs to the chair. "And you grab her instead?"

It was only now that Karen noticed that Frank was beaten and bloody. It looked worse than any beating or wounds that he had received since they'd met. One eye was already swollen shut and the collar of his shirt was wet with fresh blood. He looked like he was missing a tooth as well. Karen didn't think it was the right time to find it funny but she wanted to let out a hysterical laugh.

"You were the last one to see him alive, you were at the cabin," the man stepped over Karen, grabbing Frank by the collar. "And then the next day, all the drugs and money are gone? It's not a coincidence, Castle."

"I don't care about your stupid money and I don't care about the drugs either," Frank fought against the restraints futilely. Karen tried to roll onto her back to relive the pressure on her shoulders. 

A fist landed swiftly in Frank's gut and he let out a loud grunt. Karen cried out as a second, a third followed, and watched as Frank gritted his teeth against the couple of blows that rained down on his face. "Is that all you've got?"

"Stop it! Frank!"

Frank's body heaved as he sucked in much-needed air. The leader stalked around him, rubbing at his knuckles. "Since you're not responding to our usual methods, we decided to try something new instead."

A cold chain was looped around Karen's hand restraints and she barely had time to question it before she was being hoisted up into the air, strung up with her hands above her head. Her feet barely touched the floor and her shoulders were already beginning to ache from the pressure. She could see the men surrounding Frank clearly now, as well as the leader standing behind him with his hands on Frank's shoulders. Her heart sank as she counted at least ten.

"Let her go," Frank said, grimly. "Otherwise I'll kill every single one of you on my way out of here. Let her go now."

"After all the trouble we went through to grab her? I don't think so." The man gestured to his minions. "Boys."

Karen's body trembled, against her will. She wanted to show that she was not afraid, she wanted to stand up to these men, to the violence. But she was. And Frank couldn't help her this time. Not tied up.

 A towel was placed tautly over her face. It cut off her oxygen supply and then, water was coursing down, soaking the towel and her neck. She struggled and choked. Her lungs were dying for air, but air was nowhere to be found. She was dying for sure. Stars burst across her vision. Then all of a sudden, the towel was ripped off and she could breathe again. Coughing out the water that she had swallowed, Karen hung her head, gasping for breath. She tried shaking the water out of her face but someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back roughly.

"I'll kill all of you."

The man smashed the handle of his gun against Frank's face. "Everyone knows you got a soft spot for the blonde reporter. But no one had the balls to actually use her against you." He yanked the chain of Karen's restraints in a manner almost bored. "I guess we'll have to see how it plays out."

And then the towel was against Karen's face again.

She closed her eyes.

-

Karen swat at the pressure on her thigh wearily. She wanted five minutes. But the pressure continued, more insistently this time and she cracked an eye open. 

"You have to wake up, Page. Don't go to sleep."

"Frank?"

The last thing she remembered after the waterboarding was the men beating Frank again, to no avail. They then laughed as they let the chains go, sending her crashing down to the ground and dumping her by his feet. Her shoulders were killing her. But that was nothing compared to the fire burning in her throat and lungs. They felt scratchy and raw from the water she'd swallowed.

"Wake up!" Frank nudged her again with his bound foot. He was bound to be cramping at that angle but he showed no indication of pain as Karen stared at him exhaustedly. 

"Frank." Her eyes slid half shut of their own accord. She was so tired.

"No no, don't go soft on me, Page. You have to stay awake. Talk to me, c'mon."

"Who are they, Frank?"

Frank spit a globule of blood out. "I don't know. Partners or something with the bastard Blacksmith. They think I took their stuff after killing him. As if I'd care. I just wanted him dead."

Karen cringed at the memory. The cabin, her harsh words to him, and him slamming the door in her face. She drifted for a moment and was again brought back by Frank. "Come on, Page. Don't go. We've got to figure a way out of here."

"No shit," she coughed.

Frank grinned, an ugly smile with bloodstained teeth and cracked lips. "Glad to see you've retained your sense of humour."

"Fuck you, Castle."

HIs retort was cut short as the door was flung open again. Karen shuddered involuntarily before steeling herself to face it again. It didn't go unnoticed by Frank, who nudged her again. "We  _will_ get out of this, Page."

She didn't get to reply. Without preamble, they hoisted Karen up again and she looked down at Frank, who sat furious and bleeding in the chair. 

"Hi, sweetheart," one of the men smirked at her before ramming his fist into her abdomen. The pain radiated out from her gut and Karen retched. On instinct, she reared back and using all her strength, smashed her head into the guy's face. Feeling the spurt of warm blood against her forehead and his muffled yell, she guessed that she had broken his nose. 

She was not going without a fight.

The answering punch to her temple made her ears ring and she distantly heard Frank swearing up a storm. It struck her as strange that he could take beatings without a single word or complaint but was raring to fight if anybody else got hurt. The Punisher just wanted to protect others from the pain that he suffered, she realised. Funny how sometimes you see clearer when you're in pain.

"She's feisty," the leader commented. "She is a reporter in Hell's Kitchen, after all. But maybe, there are other less violent methods."

He stepped closer to her, wandering fingers finding her waist. Her blouse was tugged out of her skirt and Karen's heart stopped when she realised what he meant. She squeezed her eyes shut, barely hearing the man's laughter as he blocked her weak knee at his groin.

If anyone had thought Frank was angry before, he was livid now. He resumed fighting against the restraints, causing the chair to shake violently. "Motherfucker, get your hands off her! Don't touch her!"

One of their captors simply pulled a knife out, tilted Frank's head back and placed it taut at his throat. His struggling stopped, just barely, but he was still snarling angrily.

Karen watched as the knife cut Frank's skin, as one drop of blood appeared, and then two. "I'm fine, Frank," she said weakly. "Don't - I'm - I'll be fine."

"Sure you will, love," the man hummed as he unbuttoned her blouse, taking his time from the bottom up, revealing her stomach, already bruised from the earlier punch. "I'll take good care of you."

She shied away as best she could as his fingers dipped into her waistband. Karen couldn't believe this was happening to her, but she couldn't let Frank die either. If he said he didn't know what happened to the drugs or the money, she believed him. The time that they'd spent together hunting down other criminals in Hell's Kitchen had endeared him to her and she would not see him get hurt further on her account. He had been hurt enough.

A loud crash shook her out of her thoughts and she watched in shock as Frank, now on the ground, kicked free of the wreckage that had been the chair and swung his arms out from behind him. It seemed like he'd tipped the chair over on purpose in order to break out of the restraints. He grabbed the wrist of the man holding the knife and twisted it violently, ignoring the man's pained shouts as he took the knife and plunged it into the man's neck. In one swift movement, he had the knife out again and threw it expertly, where it stuck squarely in the leader's back.

She felt the warm blood against her abdomen as he slumped against her and slid bonelessly to the ground. Karen thought that she might feel horror, but all she found was relief and a sick satisfaction that the man was dead or close to it. Before she knew it, Frank had dispatched the remaining men in the room, and her gaze moved over the other couple of men lying on the ground, with either knives or bullet wounds in them. Only one or two were still moving.

He limped over to her, before slowly releasing the chains that held her up. The sudden ease of pressure sent her to her knees. Strong arms went around her as he slowly and gently lifted her to her feet.

"You're hurt," she pressed shaking fingers to a wound in his side, leaking blood.

"It's nothing," he shrugged even as she ripped a piece of her shirt to staunch the flow. "Are you okay? Did he - "

The leader stirred at their feet and Frank pressed the heel of his boot to his chest, savagely applying pressure until Karen hear a rib or two crack. Karen gripped his arm tightly, stopping him. "You saved me before it even happened. I don't - Can we just go? Please?" 

Frank stepped on his fingers as they both hobbled slowly to the door. When they passed the men, Frank brutally kicked one of them in the face on the way out and Karen winced. "That was the one who held the towel over your face," he growled. "And that was the one who poured the water." Frank stepped on his groin, hard.

Making it out into the hallway, they heard a metallic clang before a man came running down the stairwell leading up to the exit. 

"Red. Why am I not surprised?"

"Matt," Karen felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. Literally too, as he took Frank's other side and most of his weight. "Can you help me get him out please? He's been stabbed."

"Why am I not surprised either?" Matt stowed his weapons and they began shuffling towards the stairs. "I took care of the ones upstairs. The rest?"

Karen cast a glance back. "Frank took care of them."

"Are you okay?" 

Karen wondered how good his super senses were and if he could sense her disheveled state right about now. She shared a glance with Frank, whose grimace was a result of the shrug he had just attempted.

"I'm okay."

-

Somehow, they made it back to Karen's apartment without being seen, and Matt hoisted Frank onto the couch. The first aid kit sat prominently on her coffee table, well used by Frank and Karen to patch him up after his many 'adventures'.

"We're good here, Matt. You should go. Let Foggy know I'm fine." 

Matt had told them along the way how he'd tracked the men down after Karen had failed to show up for dinner with Foggy the night before. "If they come back - "

"We'll be ready for them," Frank grunted at Karen, who was holding an alcohol wipe to his wound. "They got me with a hypodermic needle, cowards. Ow! That hurts like a bitch, Page."

She nodded at her closet. "We're well stocked and protected, I can assure you. Frank's been hanging out here for awhile."

Matt's mouth pursed up in displeasure at the revelation but made no further comments. "Call me if you need me. You know I'll hear you."

Karen nodded and Matt left with a quiet click of her front door.

"I don't think you'll need stitches," Karen took out a few bandages.

Frank placed a heavy hand on hers. "Which is a good thing, because your hands are still shaking." He took the bandages from her and taped them down.

"Really? I didn't notice," Karen let her breath whoosh out of her and she sat down heavily on the floor next to the couch. "I guess it's because we just got captured and tortured by criminals, who are now dead. Or mostly dead."

"All in a day's work?" Frank offered and Karen let out a small hysterical giggle.

They cleaned up the mess and Frank disappeared into the bathroom with the change of clothes that he kept around for emergencies. Coming out, he found Karen sitting on her bed in sweatpants and a shirt, twisting knots into her long hair. He stood in the doorway for awhile, watching her. After another moment of thought, Frank sat on the floor by her legs and shocked her by resting his head on her knees.

"Frank, what - "

"When they dragged me into that room, and I saw you lying on the floor, I nearly lost my damn mind." Frank's voice was low. Karen could feel the vibrations of throat against her legs and she let her hand drag through his short hair. 

They'd never spoken about it. This thing between them. He went out to kill people, criminals, gang members and then he came back, sometimes, to her place. She stitched him up, they had dinner together, and they'd pore over some of her research so he could get the guys that slipped through the system. But the reason why he kept coming back? She thought she knew it, and she was pretty sure he knew it too, but they never talked about it.

"I'm okay," she murmured to him. "You saved me."

"You're a good person, Page. You shouldn't be caught up in all this shit." Frank kept his head down, staring a hole into the floor as he spoke. "I'm bad for you and it's my fault."

"And I told you before, when you first started showing up here, bleeding and beaten half to death, I'll take my chances with you rather than anything else out there." She pushed his head off her knees before sliding down to join him on the floor. She stretched her legs out, leaning her head back against the bed. They were pressed against each other, foot to knee to hip to shoulder. It was a comforting warmth.

Karen let her head fall onto his shoulder, a moment of weakness. But he placed a cautious hand over hers, squeezing it with a gentleness that others wouldn't expect him to possess.

They would have that conversation another time. But for now, they were okay.


End file.
